Stories Within Stories in Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade
The Best Moments
Scheherazade, Op. 35
I'm Rimsky-Korsakov, and I'm glad to share with you the best moments of my Scheherazade. You'll hear the Sultan's stern opening motif, the solo violin that tells Scheherazade's tale over a harp, and the lively dance that bursts out in the second movement, all of it music I wrote in a single summer. My fellow composers and I also teach you, here on this site, to recognize our pieces when you hear them, so come and try the Trainer yourself.
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A Grumpy Host and a Storyteller
I open the first movement with a heavy, stern motif that belongs to the Sultan, and it sounds like a man who is not used to being argued with. Soft woodwind chords then tiptoe in to introduce the solo violin, which is Scheherazade herself, beginning her tale over a harp.
The Bassoon Sighs, the Trombone Barges In
I give the opening of The Kalendar Prince to a solo bassoon, which sings a plaintive melody over the basses like someone sighing at the back of a very long queue. Then a trombone interrupts, and that interruption starts a lively dance, so the mood changes as if someone had thrown open a window.
Nothing Complicated, Just Swaying
I build the opening of The Young Prince and The Young Princess on a warm, swaying love tune, and it is the simplest of the four movements. You don't have to follow any plot here, you can simply lean back and sway along, which is a fair reward after a grim Sultan and a sea voyage.
A Title Longer Than the Party
I give the finale a title so long it barely fits on a program: Festival at Baghdad. The Sea. The Ship Breaks against a Cliff Surmounted by a Bronze Horseman. Along the way the music recalls material from the earlier movements, like old guests wandering back into the room, and in the end everything settles into a peaceful coda.
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I hope you enjoyed learning about the best moments of Scheherazade as much as I enjoyed telling you about them. Looking back, it still amazes me how much a single solo violin can say, once it has found its voice against that stern, heavy motif. I wrote the whole suite in the summer of 1888, and I never wanted anyone to hear it as a fixed programme. That is why I later removed the titles from the movements, so that you could simply listen to the fairy tale and imagine your own sea, your own ship and your own palace. There is still a good deal more to discover in Scheherazade. You could follow how the Sultan's motive returns in the later movements, or listen for the way the finale gathers up melodies from everything that came before and then settles into a peaceful ending. You might also enjoy seeing how the music went on to live in other forms, from a ballet in Paris in 1910 to the ice, where skaters still use it today. If you'd like to explore further, please click on the links provided and carry on wandering through the tales. Scheherazade kept her listener curious through one more night, and I hope the music does the same for you.
Recording: San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, Pierre Monteux, CC0